


call me in the morning

by icoeurus



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-15
Packaged: 2019-10-10 13:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17427077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icoeurus/pseuds/icoeurus
Summary: One year after the death of his wife, Barry has just begun to piece his life back together. Then, his superpowered doppelganger shows up, kidnaps him, impersonates him, and mistakenly brings him and Detective West to this so-called “Earth-1.”As if it couldn’t get any more complicated, in this world -You’re still alive.





	call me in the morning

All things considered—Barry’s having an awful day.

He’d slept through his alarm, scrambled into work with his sweater inside-out, spilt coffee all over his desk. An intern had misplaced his case files the night before, leaving him to reorganize his entire cabinet for the first (late) hour. Then, just when he thought he had survived the worst of it all—a momentary power outage had interrupted his assay, forcing him to restart the analysis.

Oh, and there was another Zoom attack.

The name still sends chills down his spine. Barry’s mouth dries up at the mention, fingers rapidly twisting his wedding band as he rides out the fear and panic. Captain Singh had dismissed him from working on any case involving that speedster, that  _monster_ , after the incident, but that doesn’t stop the other officers at the CCPD from talking about Zoom when they think he isn’t listening. If anything, the pitying looks and sudden silences when he makes his presence known is somehow worse.

No one dares to bring it up. There had been the initial shock once everyone caught wind of the verified casualties that day, the not-so-subtle glances his way when Singh went down the list. Barry remembers everything in that moment—he had been standing near the back of the group, by the doorway leading out to the main atrium. You had picked out his bowtie that morning, a deep navy blue to match his grey blazer, pecked him on the lips before he left for work.

And Singh had read out your name. Softly. Carefully. Let the syllables roll off his tongue and be eased by the air and yet, they still echoed across the room. Barry remembers repeating it over and over ever since you said  _yes_ , testing out his last name in relation to you; he had loved how it sounded but now didn’t know how he’d bear to be called  _Allen_ when you were gone.

The last thing you said to him was  _be safe_.

“You don’t have to do this,” Iris murmurs.

He’s crouching in the midst of a burnt down department store, carefully collecting samples of the ash and soot. Pointedly ignoring her, Barry seals the plastic bag and adds it to the rest inside his briefcase. Scans the footprints in the ground, makes a mental note that Zoom had accompanied Firestorm  _after_  the storefront came down.

There’s a pressure on his shoulder and he jumps, flinching back to see Iris’ hand hovering in the space between them. “Barry, really, I’m sure we can get someone else on this if you want.”

They really can’t. Three of their CSIs are sick with the flu, the others swamped with a backlog of tests. With, admittedly, the highest calibre and most experience in the field—Barry is the only one left.

Reporters clamber behind the barricades, microphones pointed in his direction for a statement. It’s the same thing every time—an attack, a promise made to stop Zoom, not being able to stop Zoom, repeat  _ad infinitum_. Iris is about to continue but another officer waves her over, and Barry doesn’t try to stop her from leaving. Barely glances her way at all before he gathers his things to deliver another hopeful message to the people in order to prevent total and utter desperation.

“We will stop Zoom,” Barry says, his eyes locked with the camera. Immediately, he feels claustrophobic. He had had enough with the media after that list of victims was released to the public, his decline to comment spun into a Greek tragedy in the news. There’s a lump in his throat as he hastily excuses himself to leave, knuckles white around the handle of his bag.

He’s too focused on making it back to the station to react when something,  _someone_  grabs his upper arms. The streets around him start to blur. Wind presses his glasses painfully against the bridge of his nose. Barry opens his mouth to say something when his feet hit solid ground again, the inertia rocking his body forward.

The first thing he feels is fear. Wonders if Zoom has finally come for him too, finally decided that he was too meddlesome to have on the CCPD’s side. The thought of you in this same position makes him sick to his stomach.

Barry turns around and deduces swiftly that if he’s in danger, it’s not from anything he already knows about. It’s an office, large and well-kept. Likely for someone important. There’s an awards shelf to his left and monitors line the walls all around him. His gaze falls on the three figures in front of him and he nearly thinks he’s dreaming.

He doesn’t recognize one of the men. The other, well—meeting Harrison Wells had always been on his bucket list; you had looked at that line and claimed that Harrison Wells should be excited to meet  _him_.

Then there’s him.

And  _it is_ him _._  It’s a Barry Allen with his hair styled the other way, glasses missing from his face. His jaw clamps shut with all the frustration and pain he’d felt that day and it takes everything in him to not walk out of the room. “What is going on here?”

Dr. Wells ignores him, turning to his duplicate. “Allen, what are you doing?”

“Hey!” Barry shouts, scowling. Their heads snap to attention. “I am  _this close_  to just leaving unless someone cares to tell me what’s happening  _right now_.”

“Wow, this you is a dick,” the unknown man mumbles under his breath, earning himself a glare.

Dr. Wells steps forward. “Listen, Mr. Allen—”

“Dr.,” he snaps, if only to assert some control over the situation.

“ _Dr._  Allen, I assure you that everything is under control. Allow me to welcome you to S.T.A.R. Labs.” Wells opens his arms, gesturing around the room. “Obviously this isn’t the most ideal way of getting you here, but, desperate times.”

His eyes narrow. “What do you need me for?”

“Well, you see,” Dr. Wells steps around his desk and Barry makes the mistake of tracking his movement.

Because the next thing he feels is a sharp pain in his torso, his muscles contracting all at once, and his vision goes black.

-

When Barry wakes up, his legs are bent at awkward angles and the ache in his neck is killing him. There’s an impressive  _crack_  as he stretches it out, but there’s resistance when he moves to sweep the hair out from his eyes.

“Are you kidding me?” The handcuffs restraining his hand to the wall jingle mockingly as he slumps his shoulders. He’s also been changed into different clothes, but thankfully his wedding band remains untouched. “Hello! Hey! Is anyone there? I  _swear_  when I get out of here…”

He tugs his hand uselessly. Looking around, he’s been put in some sort of utility closet, but nothing around him looks promising to aid in an escape.

The door swings open and silhouetted in white light is Dr. Wells and the same man from before. Barry clenches his jaw.

“Are you with Zoom?” If Harrison Wells, the man he’s looked up to ever since he was a kid, has been working with Zoom this whole time—he’s going to lose it.

“Am I with Zoom—don’t be insane.” Dr. Wells unceremoniously unlocks his handcuff, discarding the key somewhere on a shelf. He doesn’t spare him a glance before leading him out into a main office space.

“How long was I in there for?”

“Barely a day,” Dr. Wells shrugs.

Barry laughs bitterly. “‘Barely a day.’ Don’t be too sorry about it.”

“You need to leave,” He insists, but Barry steps in his path.

“Not before you tell me what the hell is going on.”

“Barry, it’s a really long story—”

“Ramon, there is  _no time_ —”

As if on cue, an alarm goes off, and the screens around them flash red with an alert. Dr. Wells freezes, lips parting.

“He’s here,” he murmurs. Barry doesn’t have to ask who he’s talking about.

Zoom is here,  _Zoom_ is  _here._  The blood runs cold in his veins. Iris was right—he’s not ready to face this, face  _him._ His knees are on the verge of giving out when Dr. Wells grabs both men by the collar, dragging them down a corridor. “We need to go.”

Barry doesn’t try to fight him. Drags his feet across the floor before they stop at some random strip of hallway, can’t find the strength to react when part of the panelling slides open to reveal a secret room.

He’s pulled to the far end and nearly collapses against the wall. His breath comes in short bursts, his mind blanking as he gets more and more lightheaded. The other man—Ramon—grabs him by the upper arms, and frowns. Barry’s shaking like a leaf.

A vibrating, gloved hand shoots through the wall of the secret room and he nearly faints on the spot. Ramon presses his hand against his mouth to muffle his incoherent rambling, but Zoom is as terrifying as he’s ever been. Blue lightning crests off his body, his inhuman eyes scanning the area. A low rumbling comes from his chest and Barry swears that he’s looking right at him.

Then, he leaves just as fast as he entered.

Ramon lets him go but he still can’t breathe, clutching helplessly at his chest. That vibrating hand—he’s seen that trick before. Done to civilians, to his colleagues, to his friends, to  _you_. Iris had told him that he shouldn’t watch the security footage from that day, but Barry couldn’t bear the thought of not knowing what happened to you and now—

Did it hurt? Did Zoom know who you were, targeted you specifically because of him? His chest is tightened so much that he feels as though a thousand-pound weight was pressing down on it. His ring is painful around his finger.

Zoom killed you. Drove his hand through your chest like it was nothing.

Wouldn’t have hesitated to kill them, too.

“We need to move.” Dr. Wells already starts his way towards the exit, Ramon beside him. “We need to find a different place to hide and make a plan.”

“No.”

His voice is so weak that he doesn’t know if he’d made a sound at all. They turn around to face him and Ramon’s face softens into concern. “Barry, you okay?”

“No, no—no, I can’t—” Barry gasps for air and Ramon places his hands on his shoulders, steadying him. “I can’t go against Zoom. Please don’t make me go against Zoom.”

Ramon shoots a helpless look at Dr. Wells. He sighs, slings the gun over his shoulder. “You’re one of, if not,  _the_  best crime scene investigator in the city, Dr. Allen. We need your help.”

“You don’t  _understand_ , I—” Barry’s eyes start to water and he grinds his teeth to stop his voice from trembling.

“Zoom”—he flinches at the name—“has my daughter. I don’t know where. I don’t know if she’s still alive.” Dr. Wells’ gaze is steady and determined, but Barry can see the worry underneath it all. “So let me rephrase that.  _I_ need your help.”

 _We’ll lose_. Barry bites back the words, instead nodding mutely. He wipes his eyes with his sleeve. “We can go to my lab in the CCPD; you can explain everything on the way.”

They switch off on the storytelling. Another world. Another Flash.

Joe is dead.

During it all, Barry can see their glances at him through the mirrors but refuses to make eye contact, fumbling with his hands. He can’t handle anything more right now.

“Barry!” Iris calls out as they walk out of the elevator. “I didn’t think you were coming into work today. Are you sure you want to be here?”

“No,” he responds flatly and makes his way up to the lab without looking back. Every step he takes fills him with dread.

Barry slumps into his chair, letting them find their own places to settle down in. He rests his head on his hand and closes his eyes as Cisco— _Cisco_  and  _Harry_ , they had properly introduced themselves in the car—tells a shortened version of their story to Iris.

“So that’s why you weren’t wearing your wedding ring yesterday.” Barry swallows thickly and nods.

“They want your help to find Zoom,” he explains. Hopes that Iris can come up with some miraculous solution to this problem so he doesn’t have to. “He has Harry’s daughter and their Barry.”

Iris’ words are quieter now. “I’ve done everything I could to try and track him down. The only person who would know where he would be hiding someone would be a meta that’s worked with him.”

“Like Killer Frost?”

“Even if you could get her to help us, finding her would be just as hard as finding Zoom,” she states. “But, if anyone can do it…”

Iris lets the sentence hang in the air. Barry shakes his head, takes off his glasses to dig palms into his eyes. “You know I can’t.”

“What is your problem with Zoom?” Harry asks, crossing his arms. “It’s not a general dislike nor anger at his actions you feel—what did he do to  _you_?”

Cisco raises a hand to stop him. He takes a slow step forwards. “Barry— _our_ Barry—was torn up about something last night, but he wouldn’t tell us what.”

“Yeah, I can imagine why,” he mutters. Barry stands up, walks over to his desk to where papers are strewn about the surface but he knows what he’s looking for.

Framed beside his monitor, you’re beaming at him from in front of the camera. Neon lights from the carnival colour your hair; if Barry had been a little further, he would have gotten the teddy bear you had just won in the shot as well. He twists his ring.

“Last year, Zoom attacked the city square. It had been a few months since we last saw him, so some people started to believe that he was gone for good,” Barry exhales shakily. “ _Too much hope_ , he called it.”

Iris’ hands are folded tightly on her lap. Harry and Cisco shift to see what Barry’s looking at. There’s a quiet gasp.

“My wife was on her way to work. She loved that route because whenever she had spare change in her pocket, she’d make a wish in the fountain. Said that it had come true when I came home safe that day.

“Then Zoom showed up. Told the world to remember that we were at his mercy.” There’s rustling behind him, a hushed conversation that Barry can’t quite pick up aside from a firm:  _not a word, Ramon_. “She was gone before the CCPD even got there.”

“What was her name?” Harry asks.

“Y/N.” Barry smiles sadly when he says your name. “She was the best person I’ve ever known.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Harry comes to stand beside him, averts his eyes from the photo of the person he spoke to not forty-eight hours ago. “My wife was a force of nature. Smarter than me, more cunning, more charismatic.”

He knows the story; the death of Tess Morgan had been covered all over the news when it happened. For the first time since Barry’s met him, Harry has a shadow of happiness on his face.

“No matter how much time goes by, we never really stop thinking about them, do we?”

Barry sighs. His heart still aches, but for now, at least, it’s motivation. “I can locate Killer Frost. Just… give me a minute.”

-

“Get out of here.”

Iris presses a hand on his shoulder, urging Barry forwards. Jesse and Cisco are beside him as they make their way to the entrance, but he can’t help to look back at Killer Frost—her hands outstretched, freezing Zoom to the floor of the cavern. He remembers her expression when the name  _Ronnie_  was said, the clench of her jaw.

Zoom killed him, too.

When they get back to S.T.A.R. Labs, Harry immediately starts scrambling for supplies. The others prepare to travel back through the breach they came through and Iris shoots him a look, a helpless shake of her head. What happens to them now?

“You guys need to get out of Central City, alright? Any place you think you’ll be safe from Zoom?” The other Barry walks up to them.

“We have some friends in Atlantis that can—”

The alarm goes off again. Barry’s blood runs cold and Iris grabs his arm. “We need to go.”

“We can’t,” he realizes, dread washing over him. “Zoom is faster than us, stronger than us. We’ll never make it out of the city, much less the building.”

“What are you saying?”

He tries to speak but nothing comes out. Barry turns towards his doppelganger, who nods empathetically in understanding.

“You have to come with us.”

“Just like that? Barry”—she steps in front of him, holds his gaze—”we can’t leave Zoom to terrorize our world.”

“You stay here and you won’t live to save it,” Harry states. Nods towards them. “Dr. Allen is right.”

He doesn’t want to be. For all the horrors and pain and devastation Barry’s been through, this is his  _home_. Where he grew up, went to school, met and married you. He swallows down his nerves. “Let’s go.”

First Cisco and Jesse, then him. When he emerges to the other side, the first thing he hears is someone calling his name, arms extending to pull him away from the breach.

Iris is looking up at him, worried, but—it’s not her. She’s out of uniform and her hair cascades unusually over her shoulders. A quick glance around sees a woman who looks suspiciously like Killer Frost, and—

“Joe?” He murmurs, dazed. The man claps his shoulder and brings him into a hug.

“You’re going to have to tell me everything that happened, later,” Joe flicks his glasses for emphasis and he recoils.

“I’m—I’m not—”

The energy warps and phases behind him. Iris,  _his_  Iris, comes out. The other Barry follows behind with Harry in tow.

“Close it! Close it now!” Confusion sweeps across the room as eyes fall between him and his doppelganger, but Cisco is fast and throws a device at the breach.

What happens next is a blur to him; the Flash from his earth is there, then,  _isn’t,_  as Zoom reaches through to pull him back to their world. Someone screams, a hand pushing him behind them. Footsteps come running into the room.

“I saw what happened—is everyone okay?”

Barry stops breathing.

He knows that voice. Heard it say  _good morning_  and  _goodnight_  nearly everyday for the best years of his life;  _I love you_ and  _I do_. He wants to turn around. Wants to see your face and smile again, hear your laugh. There are so many things he didn’t get to tell you that it  _hurts_  him to think about it.

But Barry’s dreamed of this for so long that he fears that it’s just his mind playing tricks. That this whole experience of doppelgangers and other worlds has just been one huge dream that he’ll wake up from at any moment now. He also knows that, logically, you aren’t his Y/N. You might not like or love him like you did in the other world. Might barely know him to begin with.

All of that gets pushed aside when he turns around.

“Y/N?”

His voice is barely above a whisper. You’re as beautiful as he remembers and he chides himself for ever thinking that all those photographs could ever do you justice. His eyes well up. Barry wants nothing more than to hold you in his arms again, and the only thing stopping him is the last scrap of rationality he has left, as weak as how he’s felt for the past year.

“You’re alive.”


End file.
